A visit to Sherman Heights’ Longplay

I am driving slowly down Imperial Avenue, looking for parking. My van’s windows are down, and I can hear the buzz of morning activity. Some barbers are opening their shop, joking about something. Across the way, I hear the whirr and thud of tires being removed and replaced at an auto shop. After I park and begin walking toward 2547, the sounds are joined by smells: tortillas from Gabriel’s Mercadito, breakfast meats from La Paisa, marijuana from both a homeless guy and a Nail Addictionz employee on a smoke break.

I am here to spend some time at Longplay: “a High Fidelity Listening Club” that is “inspired by the Music Bars + Jazz Kissa cafés of Japan,” according to its website. I’ve booked one of their time slots, which are always three hours; my seating is at 10 am. I get there a few minutes late, then stand confused outside for a moment: the windows are mostly covered up, and the door’s barred window is obscured by newspaper. I don’t see how to ring the doorbell, which I mistake for a camera, but after peeking in an open section of the window and waving for attention, my host comes to the door and lets me into clean and bright space. It is immediately apparent that this is not meant to be just a faithful replica of a Japanese kissa. There are Japanese touches in the decor — some small toys, a fish banner hanging over a doorway — but it’s starkly minimal inside, all clean white walls, sharp lines, and modern furnishings. Rather unlike the smoky, dark, memorabilia-filled dens that I have in mind from pictures of typical kissaten.

Guests sit with their backs against the wall, or in my case, the window. My seat is a low, hard stool that feels purpose-built for attentiveness. A glass of water rests on the compact table next to the seat. Besides my host and the DJ, there are two guys here on their own, and a man and woman talking together. The maximum for a given seating is 10.

“Nice to meet you, I’m G,” says the host. His friendliness is clear, even though a mask hides his smile. “First time here, right?” I guess G knows his regulars. He encourages me to take my time. “Seatings happen one time a day, so there’s no rush.” To me, this is what is distinctively cool about Longplay — the invitation for its guests to linger, and to listen to music in a more focused way than is customary in a cafe. This attentive appreciation of music played on high quality sound equipment (please see the inventory of hi-fi gear on the spot’s website) is part of the Japanese jazz cafe concept that Longplay is embodying.

As I settle in with my notebook, it is not jazz, but The Doors’ “Roadhouse Blues” that is playing loudly and clearly from a turntable presided over by the serious-looking DJ. But even if I won’t hear any jazz until we get through some Creedence Clearwater Revival and a few pieces of soul music, it all sounds good, especially when accompanied by the strong Mexican coffee included with the price of admission.